MK. GRANVILLE BARKER AND AN ALIBI 139 midday, the third near to sunset. The fourth act takes place one day in tJie following winter ; the first scene in the hall at MarkswaydCf the second scene in a cottage some ten miles off. This part of the Markswayde garden looks to have been laid out during the seventeenth centui^. In the middle a fountain ; the centre-piece the figure of a nymph, now somewhat cracked, and pouring nothing from the amphora ; the rim, of the fountain is high enough and broad enough to be a comfortable seat. The close turf around is in parts worn bare. This plot of ground is sut^ounded by a terrace three feet higher. Three sides of it are seen. From two comers broad steps lead down ; stone urns stand at the bottom and top of the stone balustrades. The other two corners are rounded convexly into broad stone seats. Along the edges of the terrace are groiving rose-trees, close together ; behind these, paths ; behind those, shrubs and trees. No landscape is to be seen. A big copper beech over- sJiadoivs the seat on the left. A silver birch droops over the seat on the right. The trees far to the left indicate an orchard, the few to the right are more of the garden sort. It is the height of summer, and, after a long drought, the rose-trees are dilapidated. It is very dark in the garden. Though there may be by noiv a faint morning light in the sky, it has not penetrated yet among these trees. It is very still, too. Noiv and then the leaves of a tree are stirred, as if in its sleep ; that is all. Suddenly a shrill, fHghtened but not tragical scream is heard. After a moment Ann Leete runs quickly doivn the steps and on to the fountain, tvhere she stops, panting. Lord John Carp follows her, but only to the top of the steps, evidently not knowing his way. Ann is a girl of twenty ; he an English gentleman^ nearer forty than thirty. I call that quite wonderful workmanship. It is as economical as a cablegram ordering parts of a machine ; and yet it has grace, charm, and elegance, a silvery slenderness, a quivering " life " like the spring of a sword-blade : for once in a way, by some magic of fusion, the incompatible qualities of curtness and charm are made one. That is evident enough ;
